


Moments of Weakness

by Feelforfaith



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelforfaith/pseuds/Feelforfaith
Summary: "If you could shag any one of them, which one would you shag?" Sean asks in a pleasantly curious tone of voice as if he were asking if Viggo wants another beer.





	Moments of Weakness

"If you could shag any one of them, which one would you shag?" Sean asks in a pleasantly curious tone of voice as if he were asking if Viggo wants another beer.

They've been sitting on the back porch, watching the dusk throw the sky into soft contrast against the frayed edges of trees surrounding Viggo's house.

"Come on, they're all just kids," Viggo says, reaching for the bottle next to his chair. If there's one thing he doesn't need right now, it's this conversation.

"Is that what you keep telling yourself?" Sean takes a pull of his beer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Viggo can see Sean watching him. He leans his head against the back of the chair. The trees, the clouds, everything, is both, sharp and blurry in the way it seems when the night starts falling when you could reach out and touch the air, and it would be a solid presence under your fingers. Moments like this Viggo wants to memorize and keep them for later when life feels daunting and without purpose.

"Which one would _you_ shag?" he asks, to steer the conversation away from himself, rather than because he's curious about Sean's answer.

"Dom," Sean says without hesitation.

Viggo doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it wasn't that. He turns his head to Sean. "Dom? Why?"

Sean shrugs and smiles. "He's a cute little bugger."

That, Viggo can't deny. But he never thought that Sean ... He never thought that ... He just never thought. It's never crossed his mind to wonder.

"Orlando," he says quietly, and the name slips out of his mouth like an unfamiliar shape with unpolished edges. "I would shag Orlando."

Sometimes he watches Orlando transformed into Legolas and thinks that for all his wisdom brought on with age, even Aragorn wouldn't be able to resist him, would fall for him foolishly, so in a way, that makes it all right for Viggo.

Sean salutes him with a bottle and a smile. "Bloody good choice, that. I bet he's great in the sack."

Sudden heat crawls up from Viggo's stomach and into his throat. He takes a deliberately long pull off his bottle. "Why?" he asks, wiping his mouth with the heel of his hand.

"Call it a gut feeling."

Viggo is not going to ask. Jealousy has many faces, and Viggo has seen more of them than he cares to admit. Besides, it doesn't matter now, does it.

They sit in silence watching the sky transform imperceptibly from dark blue into black. Moments like this, they don't have any significance, and yet they stay in Viggo's memory, filed in their own little pockets, scraps of life he treasures.

"You know that he wouldn't turn you down, aye?" Sean says, shattering the silence.

There's that heat flickering inside Viggo's stomach again. "Who?" he asks without looking at Sean.

"Oh, come off it."

There's a hint of a smile in Sean's voice, a hint of a smile and something else, something Viggo doesn't want to call a challenge. He gets up, pushing his chair back with force, its legs scraping against the wood of the porch. "I'm going to bed." He stops just outside the back door leading to the kitchen and turns his head to Sean. "Are you coming?"

Sean pats his shirt pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He takes out one and rolls it in his fingers. "Go on, I'll be up in a couple of minutes."

Viggo nods and lets the door fall shut behind him with a squeak.

Upstairs, in his bedroom, he picks one of Sean's shirts up off the floor and brings it to his face. He would recognize this scent anywhere—a sharp mixture of cigarettes and sweat that both comforts him and makes him restless and heavy with heat and need inside. Moments like this, they mean something, Viggo hopes.

He already misses Sean, even though Sean is still here.

He pulls his sweater over his head and drops it to the floor together with his jeans. He stretches naked on the bed, with one arm folded under his head and waits for Sean. He doesn't think about Legolas; he doesn't think about Orlando. He's waiting.

In two weeks Sean will be gone for good, and Viggo won't be able to resist, Sean knows that.

And that makes it all right. In a way.  
  


(end)


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